Gravity's Job
by taramis
Summary: Finished! GSR. Sara has an accident that puts her where she should be. Fluffy PWP with a conservative warning.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: The characters of CSI:LV belong to their creators, not me. I'm just borrowing them so they can have more ... fun ... than they do on the show. At least, unless they prove me wrong. That would be very cool.

Spoilers: through Season 4.

Song Lyrics: Gravity's Job by Mali Woods

Codicil: This is my very first fanfic. I now regret every single review I've ever posted to anyone. What was I thinking? Writing is much harder than I thought. And yeah, I've modified the environment (her apartment/his townhouse) - to fit my story.

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"_It's gravity's job to pull me down, not yours."_

Sara hummed the chorus in the empty locker room as she tied her running shoes, tucking the too-long laces in so they wouldn't unravel. It had been a while since she had gone out for a run, a long while, but she figured she could do a couple miles fairly easily before coming back to the lab and heading home.

It was one of the little things Sara hadn't realized she had just stopped doing for herself until it all came crashing down one embarrassing long day and Grissom had to pick her up at the police station. Getting pulled over while intoxicated had not been one of the highlights of her life. Especially since Grissom, her former mentor and now-boss and unrequited love had to be called in to pick her up. _Good God, unrequited love Sara? _She thought to herself. _That sounds like a romance novel_. Brushing aside the mortification, ignoring the faint burn in her cheeks Sara got up from the bench and stretched her lithe form high to the ceiling.

_Nobody else is going to care for you if you don't_, she lectured herself, picturing her PEAP counselor clucking her teeth in dismay at the negative comment. Taking a deep breath, determined that she would not think of him, she slammed her locker shut and headed out into the warming Vegas morning.

Gil Grissom had been five minutes away from his townhouse when he remembered he hadn't signed Catherine's leave-of-absence form she had been reminding him to fill out for the past month. _Nagging,_ he thought defiantly. He sighed as he turned his Tahoe around and headed back to the lab. _It's for Lindsey's Girl Scout Troop, after all_. He and Catherine Willows had known each other many years, and Grissom accepted his status as honorary uncle to Lindsey as one of those things that just happened over the course of their relationship. Grissom looked over at the pile of green cookie boxes on the passenger seat next to him. _Well, there are some definite perks to being an uncle._

Grissom smiled to himself as he parked the Tahoe near the back door of the Lab. He knew the mayor was giving a press conference, practically guaranteeing that the Crime Lab's Assistant Director Conrad Ecklie would schmoozing his way around the politicians of Las Vegas.

His suspicions correct, the lab was running as was the norm, everyone performing their duties at ease. Grissom quickly signed Catherine's form and slipped it into the Admin box. He stepped out the back door and had unlocked the Tahoe when he heard a resounding thump on the car next to him and jerked around to see what it was.

Grissom was surprised to see Sara leaning against the car in the next stall away from him, hissing as her hand touched the already hot metal. She was breathing heavily, her tank top darkened with sweat.

"Are you okay?" Grissom brows furrowed as he took in the frown on Sara's face.

Sara startled, then brushed the damp strands of hair away from her sunglass-covered eyes. _Just great_, she thought. "Yeah, I'm okay." She took a step forward, then winced in pain as her foot protested vehemently. "Shit!"

"Sara!" Grissom rushed over, and unthinkingly shot out a hand in support at her waist.

"I didn't sprain my ankle," she stammered out, flustered by his proximity, "I misjudged the height of the curb coming back and kicked it pretty hard." Boy, that even sounded lame. "I'll be fine."

"Well, let's get you inside and take a look at it." Grissom didn't relinquish his hold on her, so Sara lifted her hand tentatively to Grissom's shoulder while they maneuvered around the car. Glancing up, Grissom rapidly calculated that going up the stairs was going to be problematic. He looked over to Sara, and she met his eyes, apparently reaching the same conclusion.

"Look Sara," he began, "why don't.."

"Grissom," she interrupted knowing what he was going to say, "it's okay, I'll wait here. My locker combination is 8667 and everything should be in my bag."

"Keys in there too?", he asked.

"Yeah, thanks." Sara sighed, then balanced herself at the railing.

In the locker room, Grissom reached in and grabbed Sara's bag as well as her spare set of clothing all of them kept. As he removed her clothes, Grissom realized how intimate it felt to be handling her things. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that she needed his help. Nevertheless, a pool of warmth started inside of him at the thought that she was _allowing_ him to help her.

_Okay, Gil, get it together. She's waiting_. Grissom grasped her things, then headed out after securing her locker.

Sara adjusted herself as well as she could outside, trying to look nonchalant. _How stupid is this?_, she thought, rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses at herself. _ I feel like an idiot. In front of Grissom. Again._ Wincing at the pain of that thought and at the pain around her foot, she consoled herself. _At least tomorrow's my day off ... _

Sara looked up at Grissom as he headed down with her things, knowing he was going to suggest going to the hospital.

"Sara," he started tentatively, "you should.."

She interrupted him again, "I've sprained my ankle before, Griss, and this doesn't feel anything like that." She smiled self-consciously, "I think it's just a bad stubbed toe."

Grissom peered at her closely, and amazingly took her at her word. "Okay, Sara." Then he surprised her. "Why don't I take you home? You're vehicle's a Standard, and I don't think you can drive with your foot in that condition." He held his breath, knowing that if she didn't agree, they would be in an argument. Unfortunately, when they talked about anything outside of work there was probably an 80 percent chance of miscommunication or misinterpretation and things would get worse than they already were.

To his surprise Sara sighed and nodded in agreement. "Thanks."

Grissom tucked her things under his arm then helped her hobble to his SUV, all the while illicitly savoring the sight and feel of her skin bared by her tank top. Sara had looked embarrassed but let him help her into the passenger seat after pushing the boxes of Thin Mints aside. As he started the engine, Sara opened her bag , put on a cotton t-shirt against the chill of the AC, then pulled out a water bottle out and drank thirstily.

Her warm, concentrated scent pleasantly wafted over to him and he tried to discretely get in as much of it as possible. She smelled healthy and clean, even after her exertion from her run. He pulled away from those dangerous thoughts, well aware that if he kept his mind on that track there was going to be an obvious reaction that neither of them would feel comfortable about.

Small talk with her terrified him, so he concentrated on traffic. The only thing he asked was directions to her home and the requisite "Are you doing okay?" He switched on the radio station after her affirmation, and classical music filled the SUV.

They pulled into her driveway, oddly filled with a plethora of heavy duty maintenance vehicles. For the second time that day, Sara felt her stomach plummet. "Oh shit."

"Do you know what's going on?" Grissom inquired, looking around at the activity buzzing around them. Sara didn't reply. He looked over at her and she had her elbow propped up on the window sill, forehead resting in her palm.

"They're working on the elevators today. General maintenance." Sara lifted her head without looking at Grissom. "I live on the third floor."

Grissom raised his eyebrows, his mind racing over the possibilities. Just when Sara was about to say the hell with it and get out of the car, Grissom spoke. "Why don't we just go over to my place." He didn't look at her either.

"Okay."

With her words, Grissom reversed the Tahoe and headed towards his townhouse, pulse pounding in his ears. He wouldn't allow himself to think of anything except driving.

TBC


	2. First aid, omelets, and a dilemma

**Disclaimer: The characters of CSI:LV belong to their creators, not me. I'm just borrowing them so they can have more ... fun ... than they do on the show. At least, unless they prove me wrong. That would be very cool.**

**Spoilers: through Season 4 **

**I've modified the environment (her apartment/his townhouse) to fit my story. Thanks to everyone for their kind words – they mean a lot to me.**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Grissom unlocked the door leading to the kitchen and slid the armful of items he held onto the counter. Heading back to the garage, he found that Sara had managed to get herself out of the cab and was holding onto the open door.

"Let's get you inside and your foot elevated." Grissom approached Sara tentatively and reached around her waist again. "Is that it from the car?" he asked.

"Yeah", Sara exhaled. Feeling Sara's muscles move beneath his hand as they headed to the kitchen chair, Grissom marveled at the deceptive latent strength her lanky exterior hid. He smiled inwardly, thinking that a nice analogy for Sara herself: beautiful, strong, self-confident...Sara's weight shifted and Grissom adjusted accordingly as she eased herself down.

Pulling the other kitchen chair closer, Grissom sat facing her then reached for her injured foot. "Grissom, I can do that. These are my_ running_ shoes." Sara protested meaningfully.

"Don't worry, Sara," he replied, steadily untying the laces, "my olfactory senses have endured much worse." He glanced up at Sara to find her staring back at him in amazement and he couldn't resist shooting her a quick wink.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. _ This actually felt ... nice_, she thought._ Like how we used to be._ Even though Grissom had eased her shoe off as carefully as he could, Sara had to work hard to suppress a yelp of pain. They stared in surprise at her foot in Griss' lap, the toe end covered with blood.

"Damn it!" At his oath Sara assured, "Griss, it doesn't hurt that much."

"Sara are you _sure_ you don't want to go to the hospital?" Grissom questioned, already knowing the answer.

"Look, it's stopped bleeding, let's just see what the damage is first okay?" Sara gestured towards her foot. "I can wiggle my toes, so nothing's broken...ouch!" She winced, "Okay, let's just get the sock off."

Seeing her determination, Grissom got out the first aid kit and an empty grocery bag from under the kitchen counter then handed her the bowl of water and cloth square. He pulled out the scissors then maneuvered the chair perpendicular to Sara's. She smirked at the gloves he had automatically donned. "Habit," he replied wiggling his fingers at her.

Placing her ankle on his knee, he slid his fingers into his sock then carefully cut down towards her toes. Once he got to the distal metatarsal he stopped and looked up at Sara. "Ready?" he questioned. She grasped the edges of the bowl and nodded.

Delicately he peeled the sock away, pausing when Sara indrawn breath coincided with resistance. She wet a corner of the cloth then passed it to Grissom, who gently rubbed as much of the dried blood he could from her toes trying to free the sock. "It looks like you've removed the majority of your toenail." He pronounced, looking up at Sara. "I don't think I can get the sock off without pulling it completely off." He looked at her skeptically, "I don't think I..."

Sara lay the bowl on the table, then in a swift lunge pulled the sock and consequentially her nail off in one fell swoop. "Fuck!" She swore, then dropped the sock into the waiting bag and sat back. Grissom was so shocked by her speed that he had barely flinched.

She met Grissom's eyes then had to smile at his open-mouthed expression. "I'm a rip-the-bandage-off kinda person Griss." He closed his mouth, then tipped his head in acknowledgement.

He mused about that revelation as he proceeded to finish cleaning off the blood on her foot. _That sums her up_, he thought, _straight-forward and fearless. _ His internal warning system cautioned him and he backed away from following that potentially dangerous train of thought. _Focus on the situation Gil. _He peered down at her big toe and had her wiggle them. Surprisingly not much fresh blood had welled up and her ease of movement meant no broken bones. At least, it meant that to Sara.

After a brief argument about x-rays, and settling once Sara to agree to go to her regular doctor later, Grissom applied anti-bacterial ointment to the bandage and finished bandaging her up. Propping her foot on the chair he had been sitting on, Grissom cleaned up while they talked easily about the BE case she had worked on last night.

They agreed that an easy dinner should be next on the agenda, so Grissom started pulling out eggs and various items from the fridge. Sara complimented him on her spinach and portabello mushroom omelet. "I'm just glad you're not a vegan," he replied, "I don't think I'd have anything to serve if you were." Sara smiled, happy that he actually remembered on his own and didn't have to be reminded with a brick.

Grissom watched Sara smile down at her plate and wondered why. Munching on a cookie, he was inwardly grateful that things seemed to be going well for a change. But the reality of Sara sitting in his kitchen, barefoot and wearing that tiny pair of shorts that exposed too much of her lovely legs was beginning to affect him. Sara on the other hand, abruptly realized that she was still grimy from her run and dearly hoped her deodorant was working as advertised.

"Could I use your shower Grissom?" she asked. She knew he was starting to feel awkward with her in his personal space. She hadn't thought beyond getting her foot taken care of and now the implications of their decision set in.

"Uh, yeah, let me check the bathroom." Relieved at her suggestion that would let him gather his composure, Grissom stepped into the guest bathroom to check for towels. He stood in the doorway, evaluating the small shower. There was no way that Sara would be able to keep her injured toe dry.

Lips pursed, Grissom headed to his bedroom and the master bath and checked supplies there. _Well, as long as Sara keeps this to herself I don't mind sharing this with her_, he thought, faintly embarrassed. _Not even Catherine knows I have one of these._

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	3. The Color Purple

Disclaimer: The characters of CSI:LV belong to their creators, not me. I'm just borrowing them so they can have more ... fun ... than they do on the show. At least, unless they prove me wrong. That would be very cool.

Song: Gravity's Job by Mali Woods at - go check out some neo-folk.

Spoilers: through Season 4

Status: Incomplete

I've modified the environment (her apartment/his townhouse) to fit my story. Reviewers rock! Thanks for your comments. Sorry it's taken a while to post, RL has thrown me for a loop this week.

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Sara sat in the kitchen, bemused at the situation. She gazed curiously around her, taking in the sight of Grissom's apartment with professional ease. _Geez, could he own a smaller couch_? she wondered. _It looks pretty uncomfortable. You can't even stretch out._ Glancing around there was a distinctive lack of creature comforts. There wasn't even a single rug on the floor. If it hadn't been for the plethora of bugs adorning the apartment there was hardly a hint of the owner's personality. _I wonder why... _Sara set that thought aside for later as she heard Grissom approaching from the hallway.

"Sara, we have a problem." Grissom leaned against the bar counter adjacent to the kitchen and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"What's up?" Sara inwardly cringed, part of her wondering if he was going to suggest she rent a hotel room. She was about to suggest it herself and spare him the trouble, but she clamped her lips shut. _Sara, for once, let him finish and go from there._ She had promised herself she would try to stop over-talking around him and see if that got her anywhere.

Straightening up, he eventually explained "I think my shower would be hazardous in your current condition." He paused, looking at Sara.

_Okaaaay_, Sara thought keeping his gaze without speaking,_ let him finish..._

Surprisingly Sara didn't comment, just looked at him. "Aside from the awkwardness of manufacturing some sort of waterproof footwear, the shower is basically a glass enclosure. I'm worried that you might loose your balance. I'm skeptical about how sturdy the walls would be should you fall." He had no idea why he felt he had to justify himself.

Calmly she replied, "Okay, what's the other option?"

"A sort-of shower. I have a bath with a shower attachment." Grissom kept to the facts. "You'll have no trouble sitting on the ledge."

_Grissom takes a bath? She herself hadn't had one in ages._ She raised her eyebrows at Grissom and he slightly shrugged._ She wasn't proud of it, but a part of her was enjoying Grissom's discomfort immensely. There was no way in hell she was going to say no to this! Play it cool,_ she advised herself. "Sounds good."

He moved forward as Sara levered herself up from the chair. She noticed that Grissom didn't hesitate putting his arm around her like he had been earlier. _Good to know he doesn't find me repulsive. That's something at least. _With her shoe off and foot bandaged, she probably could hobble on her own, but hey, she wasn't going to deny herself the help. She grasped his shoulder, enjoying his warmth and masculine scent while she could.

There was just the barest of hint of hesitance as they entered his bedroom. Sara got a quick impression of dark masculine furniture and an indigo-colored bed as they made their way across the room to the master bath. Once in the door, Sara gaped in surprise.

"Is that a whirl-jet tub?" Sara grinned and Grissom couldn't do anything but smile in response. "I can't believe you own one of these!"

Her enthusiasm negated any awkwardness Grissom initially felt. Gesturing to the impressive oval tub housed in an elevated slate platform he explained, "I had it installed about a while ago. I chose this particular one under the advice of a friend of mine at the CDC." At her questioning look he replied, "This is a 'pipe-less' model that allows you to clean the jet ways, decreasing the likelihood of s_taphylococcus_ and _legionella_ that are common potential hazards in the usual hot tubs or whirl-jets."

Grissom eased her down onto the platform. "I wouldn't have bought one if Seth hadn't done the tests himself. Interesting work..." Grissom trailed off in thought while Sara ran her hand over the grey slate. "Uhh, there's the attachment," he gestured to the handheld sprayer off to the side. " You can probably rinse yourself down easily enough." Grissom started to blush, then turned around to rummage in the cupboard behind him. "Here's a towel and washcloth." Sara put the items aside.

"Grissom, if you don't mind, there is _no way_ I'm not going use the tub!" She widely grinned, exposing that charming gap between her teeth. He reluctantly smiled back. "Of course, Sara."

Grissom explained the controls then headed out the door, snagging his toiletries. "Once you get the tub filled I'll take a quick shower myself." He paused in the doorway, catching her eyes before he said, "Enjoy yourself, Sara." He winked and smiled, then shut the door softly behind him.

Sara didn't know what to think. _Now what did that mean? Was he flirting? Or being literal? _She shook her head. _C'mon Sara, don't get mental over it._ Grissom so often would run hot then cold, she never really knew what his reactions would be. _Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. What ever the hell that means_. Sara decided to let it go, and undressed, putting a smaller towel beneath her as a shield against the chill of the slate.

As she lathered then ran blissfully hot water over her body, rinsing the soap off she wondered why Grissom had this immensely self-indulgent tub. It wasn't the sort of thing that he'd do on a whim; there was way too many logistics involved in the installation and Griss wasn't a whimsical person. _Understatement of the year._ Rinsing her hair thoroughly (there wasn't any shampoo around and she forgot to ask) she started to fill the tub, unconsciously singing the song from earlier in the day.

_Until we hit the earth, the world goes spinning by.._

_its gravity's job to pull me down  
not yours  
air born between the legs of the sky  
so swiftly so softly we fall  
until we hit the earth..._

Once the bath was filled and the jets were happily bubbling away, Sara eased herself down, carefully propping her injured foot up on the ledge of the tub. _Oh man._ She shut her eyes, and leaned backward, blissfully letting herself enjoy the moment. She'd ask him about the tub later.

Grissom heard the water start running, then in a gesture his mother would have been proud of, changed the sheets on the bed. He certainly wanted Sara to get some rest, and figured that though the odds of getting her to accept getting some sleep in his bed were slim, it was better to be prepared than not.

"_Proper preparation prevents poor performance._" He thought. _Now where did that quote come from?_ He shrugged, decided it was likely from his early experience with the Boy Scouts. He'd clear off an area in the spare room that doubled as a home office / insect conservatory so he could also get some rest. As he gathered clothes for himself to put on after his shower, he realized he didn't offer the same to Sara. Putting his items in the shower, he heard the jets start up in the tub. Blocking out the mental image, he turned and headed out for Sara's extra clothes on the kitchen counter. As he picked up her jeans and top, something dark fell from the pocket of her jeans.

Unthinking, Grissom picked it up when the silkiness of the material sent an immediate reaction to both his brain and his masculinity. Mesmerized, Grissom slowly unraveled the slight purple item until its identity was revealed between his hands.

_These_, he thought dizzily and scientifically, _are Sara's panties._

TBC

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Author's note: These tubs exist and are called "Sanijet" tubs, but I've never used one. The information they provide about the bacteria and organisms that flourish in hot tubs could definitely be used in an episode of CSI. 


	4. Water, water, everywhere

Disclaimer: The characters of CSI:LV belong to their creators, not me. I'm just borrowing them so they can have more ... fun ... than they do on the show. At least, unless they prove me wrong. That would be very cool.

Spoilers: through Season 4.

Status: Incomplete

The creative process is much more involved than I had ever imagined. The only external encouragement that I get is from you, my reviewers. Thank you for your kind words.

* * *

Grissom's eyes traced the lace pattern on the delicate purple lingerie in his hands, examining it like a vital piece of evidence, head cocked to one side. Unconsciously he pulled his hands apart to feel the tug of the elastic, and felt the warm, tingling burn of arousal spreading from his center outward. With a start he realized what he was doing and in a flush of embarrassment shoved the panties back into the pocket they had fallen out of.

The warmth had turned into a slow burn, and Grissom strode quickly to his bedroom and placed Sara's clothes on the bed. He quickly headed for the shower, stripping his clothes ruthlessly from his body. Before he opened the door he realized he could hear Sara singing over the hum of the jets. He couldn't make out the words, but her voice further fueled his desire.

He pulled the door sharply behind him and turned the shower on. The warm water sluiced over his body, stimulating his already heightened senses. He briefly thought of turning up the cold water to shock his system back to the normal order of things but in a decisive move decided against it. He ran the soap thoughtfully between his hands working up a lather.

_Sara's indulging herself, why shouldn't I?_ But Grissom refused to let himself imagine Sara's lean naked form stretched out in _his_ tub just a few feet away. Sighing he thought to himself, _being a gentleman was certainly a difficult thing to do at times_. Facing the shower head he tipped his head back and let the warm spray beat down on his chest, his hands gliding down across his chest inadvertently following the path of the water.

Sara heard the shower start and turned her head towards the wall on her right towards the sound. Picturing Grissom in the shower, she smiled and gave a mental growl of approval. _Why am I so attracted to him?_ It was a facetious question, having gone over the same thought in her mind countless times before. "_Smart is sexy, Mulder,_" she smiled at the thought of her favorite television characters. Trouble was, her attraction had started when she had first heard his voice lecturing at a seminar she had attended on a whim so many years before. She was so used to the attraction between them that she couldn't separate the thought of Grissom without knowing she was still interested.

_Trouble was, it's getting harder and harder to work with him and keep it separate. _She sighed. _My PEAP counselor would be proud that I realize that work is my life. I was trying today to get a life outside of work and look what happens..._ She glanced around at her surroundings and smiled she wiggled her injured foot propped out of the water. _Hmmm. Maybe I should get her some flowers._

She leaned over to move her jogging shorts further away. Not that she cared that it got wet, but her cell phone was in the pocket. Her thoughts wandered back to Grissom. It wasn't just his intelligence, though that was a big part; it wasn't just his intensity and drive, the things she herself understood viscerally. His compassion and often odd sense of humor were certainly things that interested her. _And he's just plain hot_, she added.

Realizing she was getting a little too comfortable and that the shower beside her had long since stopped, Sara grasped the side of the tub to lever herself out.

_Oh shit._

Grissom had finished his shower and was tidying up the spare bed when he heard the ringing of the house phone. "Grissom," he stated into the receiver.

"Griss it's me."

"Sara?" Grissom automatically looked in the direction of his bath.

"Grissom...I can't get out of the tub." Grissom's eyebrows shot up, realizing what had happened. The hot water relaxing muscles, the awkwardness of the ascent angle, coupled with an injured foot all added up to ... him helping a naked Sara Sidle out of his tub.

"You still there?" Sara inquired tentatively.

"Ah, yes. Okay. Um, I'll be right in." Grissom hung up the phone.

Sara shut off her phone and blew the away the strands of hair that had fallen in one sharp exhalation. _I can't believe this..._

Grissom touched his forehead to the door and took a deep breath in. Straightening his shoulders he knocked decisively. "Sara?"

"C'mon in Grissom."

He opened the door and stepped into the warmth and humidity of the bathroom and placed her extra clothes on the counter near the sink. Glancing quickly at Sara's face before he averted his eyes, he approached the tub and sat down on the ledge of the tub facing Sara.

Sara looked down at the arms she had crossed over her chest. "I can't believe this is happening to me today."

Grissom spread his hands. "Just one of the those days I guess." Her damp hair distracted him. "Did you get to wash your hair?" Sara shook her head then shrugged her dismissal. "How should we do this, Sara? We could drape you with one of the towels first..."

Sara was silent long enough for Grissom to look down into her eyes. "Grissom, you know I wouldn't mind you seeing me. It's just that I don't know if you'd mind." Sara looked straight at him, her chin raised.

_Straight-forward, fearless..._ Grissom heard his thoughts echoing back to him as a flush of desire, much stronger than the one he had experienced in the kitchen with her underwear struck him. The world seem to tip on its axis, reality cast astray. He felt like a dreamer in a dream.

She stared back defiantly. Her lips trembled and he was lost.

"Sara." He leaned down and with his left hand he gently cupped the side of her face while his eyes dropped to her lips. Rubbing his thumb across her moist skin, barely brushing the corner of her mouth, he replied, "you should know better than that."

Sara jerked her head back in shock and Grissom almost fell forward into the tub himself. "How the hell would I know better, Grissom? You already know how much I'm attracted to you and you don't do a damn thing! I don't know anything about how or what you think of things outside of work!" Grissom leaned back as she shot him a glare that would have killed him if he was a lesser man. "I don't even know why you would even have a whirlpool tub."

She leaned back and crossed her arms in anger instead of modesty while Grissom tried to gather his thoughts.

"Sara..." Grissom stopped.

Oh no, she wasn't going to let him off the hook. She was through playing that game. Besides, he couldn't avoid her, she was stuck in his tub. Refusing to become amused at that thought, she kept silent, raising one eyebrow while he floundered.

"I almost lost my hearing." _What? Okay, Haviland trial..._ Grissom continued on, knowing Sara would put the pieces together herself. "I was developing otosclerosis like my mother. Genetic." Grissom ran his fingers through his hair, emotionally tired but figuring there wasn't any other way to deal with the situation. "I had a risky operation, a stapedectomy, and I was fortunate that it was successful." He gestured to the tub. "I felt the need to celebrate."

"I guess you already have an annual rollercoaster pass." Sara tentatively smiled, hoping he would take her statement as an offering of peace.

"Yes, I do." She felt grateful when he smiled back. "This was truly an indulgence." He looked down to the slate in front of him. "Catherine came to see me the day of the surgery." Sara looked away, trying to conceal the hurt his words caused. "She had to know in case it wasn't successful." Sara looked back at him, gauging that statement. "And I needed to tell her." She nodded, accepting his honesty and understood he wasn't going to explain why he didn't talk her.

Relieved she wasn't going to push him more about it, because he wasn't sure he could give her one, he gestured to the tub. "Catherine doesn't know about this."

Sara stretched her arms out to the sides of the tub. "Yeah, you'd have her over every weekend! Maybe even after every shift!" She let out a short laugh. "Heck I might come over every weekend!"

Grissom didn't respond, so Sara looked up at him questioningly. Her amusement sank like a stone at his expression. He stood up and walked away towards the door. _ Hello Sara! I forgot I'm sitting here naked and I'm talking his ear off about Catherine_ ... Appalled at herself and the situation, she crossed her arms again, but this time in mortification.

TBC


	5. Almonds and revelations

Disclaimer: The characters of CSI:LV belong to their creators, not me. I'm just borrowing them so they can have more ... fun ... than they do on the show. At least, unless they prove me wrong. That would be very cool.

Spoilers: through Season 4.

Status: Complete!

I've had to finish this up under duress as Real Life has been incredibly challenging this last week. Writing this little fic has been fun and enlightening – thanks to everyone for reviewing!

* * *

_Sara likes the tub_. Grissom's mind raced back to when he ordered the tub. He remembered the anxiety before the surgery that he couldn't suppress. He remembered Sara's unfortunate timing of asking him to dinner with regret. He thought of Catherine's support and how he glad he was to see her there. He remembered the overwhelming relief when he realized he could hear the doctors speak after they removed the bandages from his head.

The relief wasn't surprising, as far as revelations went, but the importance of Catherine being there for him was. His personal philosophy of not giving away 'tells' to people was evolving with his revelation. And as far as personal crises went, the tub at least was a practical indulgence.

He reached into the cupboard by the sink and pulled out two things, a champagne-shaped bottle a travel-sized bottle of shampoo, then went back to sit at the edge of the tub. He couldn't quite identify the expression on Sara's face when he came back towards her, "You're already in the tub, why don't you wash your hair?" Sara just looked shocked but took the little bottle from him. Grissom gestured with the dark-colored champagne bottle.

"They gave me this when they installed the tub." Sara looked at the label and smiled in disbelief, "Grissom, you haven't taken a bubble bath in this?"

He shrugged in response. "I thought soaking in it was enough of an indulgence. Besides, it seemed kinda girly." Sara let out an appealing burst of laughter and Grissom smiled in response, his gaze tender. "And since I now have a beautiful girl in the tub, why not use it?"

Sara cocked her head at him, her eyes daring. "Only if you take one with me Grissom." He froze. "Hey now, I'm stark naked here. Even it up."

He blinked. _That was fair_, he decided. For the second time, he turned and walked away, closing the door behind him. Sara shrugged and uncapped the bubble bath and took a sniff. _Almond_, she decided. _That's a nice touch by the distributor_, she poured a little out in her hand, _scented, but not exclusively feminine_. She added a good amount to the tub, and restarted the jets. The warm scent of almonds filled the air and a thick layer of frothy bubbles soon mounded the surface. _I can't believe he's gonna do it_, running her hands through the bubbles, _but it seems the surgery had really affected him. Maybe he's finally realized I might've died in the lab explosio_n. Suppressing that depressing thought, she looked up at the sound of the door opening to see Grissom enter in a navy-colored bathrobe, the hem just below his knees. That wiped away any negative thoughts.

He sat on the tub facing Sara again, hands in the pockets. "I don't think I'm ready to go the Full Monty," Sara was more surprised by his reference than his words. "So I brought you this." He removed his hand from his pocket, dangling what obviously was her underwear. "I found it when I brought your clothes to the bedroom..."

The red flush on his cheeks were so endearing that Sara gave him a break and played it straight. "Yeah, I always keep it together with my spare clothes. Habit." She started to reach for it, but Grissom lowered the hand holding her panties to his lap instead. "It'll be awkward for you, can I help you put it on?" Oddly, the thought of Grissom dressing her was a bit embarrassing, _but heck_, she thought _I've nothing to hide. And he's getting in!_ "Sure."

Standing up, Grissom removed his bathrobe and hung it up on the hook next to tub. Sara felt her heart pound and temperature rise as she took in the sight of Grissom wearing only a pair of dark navy briefs. Speechless, she watched as he knelt by the tub, carefully maneuvering her panties over her injured toe then sliding them up her legs until she could reach and pull them on over her thighs. They didn't acknowledge the heavy spark of attraction that was steadily streaming between them

He sat on the ledge and swung his legs into the tub then met her eyes. "You ready, Sara?" She knew the question meant more then his joining her in the tub. "I've been waiting for you, Grissom."

SEVERAL DAYS LATER

"Nick, you and Catherine have an DB over at convenience store, Brass said it was a holdup; Warrick, make sure you're prepped for the hearing tomorrow; Sara and I are going to a DB near the airport."

Nodding at Sara they grabbed their cases and headed outside. Opening the passenger door for Sara, Grissom asked "Do you want to get your panties wet again after shift?" He closed the door, her laughter still audible from inside as he made his way around the cab.

Brass rose from retrieving his fallen keys beneath his car in the stall over, mouth open and eyes widened in shock as he watched the two of them drive away.

* * *

The End  



End file.
